


Ravenous Blues.

by Madame_V



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blues, Former outlaw, M/M, Murder scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:18:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3757633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_V/pseuds/Madame_V
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Persistence spin off. If there was one thing Greg had learnt a long time ago, it was that life was like blues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ravenous Blues.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Persistence.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264133) by [Madame_V](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_V/pseuds/Madame_V). 



> SAXEY, SAXEY BLUES, CHIIILD. As a guitar player, I can testify that you can definitely attach a song to a mood as much as you can attach a style to a person, and I was just listening to a bit of blues this morning, Greg popped into my head and I had to do something with him immediately. Set around chapter Ninjas, I think.
> 
> I SET TREES ON FIRE WHEN YOU DON'T COMMENT D: nooo! Trees! ;_; But comment anyway, because I could really use your guidance to be a better author and your opinion means a lot to me.
> 
> Kisses and cookies to you, loves!

It was a sunny day. A day when children should be out playing in the parks and enjoying the first glimpses of summer, and little Hailey was dead on the cool pavement. Pale like a little angel, eyes closed and hands purposefully placed on her chest, pristine dress and bow on her hair. Greg looked down at her and DI Danson walked around the scene coolly, Greg narrowed his eyes and picked up Katy’s hand seeing traces under her nails “Put bags on her hands, we’ll need this” he said in a quiet, grim tone.

The forensic team, the constables, everyone within the abandoned building felt the same. The looks on their faces and the tremble on some of their hands spoke of stress and reluctance. A child’s murder was never a pleasant thing to manage, but they knew it would be worse to let whoever did this walk because they let their anger get in the way of investigation.

Exiting the building, pressing his fingers to the “Keep your eyes open, Constables. Sally, Jake! Off to the dock, I want to know everything the employees of the nearest companies know!” he looked to another group and said “Lana, Jessica! Off to the office, I want you to bring out every missing person’s report from the past three months, this scene looks bloody familiar! To work!” He looked back at DI Danson and the man said “You listened to the Sergeant, on with it” with that, the young men and women scattered to their tasks.

Greg turned and sighed “Shite, I’m craving a cig right now”, the old man pressed his hand to his mouth and said “I think I’ve seen this one before, any ideas?”

Biting his lower lip and looking up at the window then at the once closed door “They got in ‘round back, the door was loose and the junkies that found her did the same, she’s been missing for a week. Brown hair, blue eyes, there are at least three girls I can think of from 2012. Rose, Glenda and Jenny…” he said.

The old man hummed and said “My thoughts precisely, good observation on the hands, I hadn’t caught there were remains under her nails”

“It’s your sight, old man. You need to go to the doctor” commented the younger man, pressing his tongue angrily to his teeth. Still inable to move on from the wrath an unnecessary death could cause, still craving that blasted hit of nicotine.

Danson scoffed “You are starting to sound like my wife” Greg snorted and smiled “Caught your breath, then, boy?” the Sergeant nodded and Danson patted his back “Come on. Let’s see the rest of the rooms again. Maybe we’ll catch a glimpse of something new…”

And he followed. Greg always fearlessly, stupidly followed, be it Danson, his gut, mysterious men and clever junkies. What he didn’t realize is that he was often a reassurance, dealing with every situation calmly, even if his nerves were raw and kept him on edge.

-

Meeting Mrs. Holmes had been a coincidence, even if Hailey was still waiting for closure; they had closed a case with a chemistry professor at Oxford that would be their expert in court. The Crown Prosecutor had asked him to accompany him so he could explain everything first hand to the man, that didn’t excuse the flirting and personal questions he had to dodge and ignore from the older, short man and just as they were going for lunch when his savior caught him by the elbow, dismissed the rather attached attorney, who left complaining only slightly and claiming he’d owe him a lunch sometime. And it might have been Greg’s exhausted mind playing tricks or Mrs. Holmes (‘Call me Violet, dear!’) narrowed her eyes at the retreating man with a displeased turn on her lips.

Chatting with her was pleasant, made Greg wish to have had a childhood with his own parents talking about each other with the love Violet talked about her newly retired husband. After a little fight with the woman’s son and having her apologizing and making excuses for him, Greg simply preferred to change the subject to her project. Even if he caught only half of it (And seeing her illustrate the mechanics of anti-matter by using chips and a fork was rather amusing), he left feeling as if something inside his chest was restored.

The woman gave him a peck on each cheek as he dropped her off at college once more and taking the highway back to London, turning the blues in the radio station a bit higher and tapping on the steering wheel as Peter Green sand ‘Baby, when the sun goes down’ he let himself think of the tall, auburn haired man he had seen back at the bar and the man he’d been texting to for about two months.

What Greg could build from what he knew was an overworked man, bit antisocial, bit resentful as well, being mysterious was not a treat of his character if his mum’s own character was anything to go by, he was reserved as a treat of his own personality. ‘I am not in the habit of procuring friends for myself or maintaining them for that matter’, ‘Have you ever considered that perhaps you are the closest thing to a friend I have ever had?’. Greg sighed, mixed emotions, too. He groaned pinching the bridge of his nose and took his phone once the light turned red. Searching for the song and sending it to the other man, maybe they could share a blues just this once.

As to his intentions, they remained as pure and earnest as ever, of course he wouldn’t advance on someone that didn’t have an interest. So he let the song chew at him, maybe he’d just accept to have another bit of rough with Lauren just for the sake of it. Greg would accept a bloke at this point just to attend to a particular need in the dark and get it over with, but the Crown Prosecutor seemed too eager to marry him and have him encased in a glass bell for show.

Parking his car he sat back and answered to Mycroft’s plain ‘Busy’ with a chuckle. The charming tosser. He got out of the car and into the office building, he knew he was still a looker and that his smile was still in the habit of making messes, but being someone’s trophy boyfriend wasn’t something his inner rebel would simply accept. In cue, Eric Gales ‘Good for sumthin’‘ got stuck into his head.

The disaster a bloke like him would make with something nice and guarded like Mycroft Holmes. He smiled a bit to himself and pocketed his phone as the elevator reached his floor.

_I'm good for sumthin'_

_Oh yes it's true_

_I guess it's playin'_

_For me and you_

_We all need music_

_To bring the bouts sumthin'_

_All you gotta do is listen_

_And I think you'll feel the same_

 


End file.
